


Sketchy Details, Clear Hearts

by MercurialBianca_TheHonorableMrsMcCarthy



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Reunions, Shirtless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 11:56:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15751194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercurialBianca_TheHonorableMrsMcCarthy/pseuds/MercurialBianca_TheHonorableMrsMcCarthy
Summary: She had followed the sound of his voice. She could feel her pulse begin to race remembering the running. All the twists and turns. Is it all a dream?





	Sketchy Details, Clear Hearts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kid_n_the_hall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kid_n_the_hall/gifts).



> Thanks @firesign and @solitarycyclist for their editing assistance!

Phryne felt restless. She’d been tossing and turning most of the night. It had been years since her dreams had been so off. Thankfully, these were not the horrible dreams René and Foyle had inspired. Nightmares born of real life monsters. No, these dreams were just… peculiar. Late for an event she’d forgotten to put on her social calendar. Later, a frantic phone call from Mac, wondering when she was going to come to deliver Dot’s baby.

And then there was the one that had finally made her sit up straight in bed, her nightgown clinging to her, her skin glistening with sweat, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. As was often the case with that kind of dream, it retreated to the farthest reaches of her brain, as if skulking in a corner like an impish child. She couldn’t remember what it had been about, other than she had been running down a cobblestone street. Had it been raining? She swore she could smell the rain. And then there was Jack.

_Jack!_

He had been calling to her. She had been running to him, but never seemed to catch him. She had followed the sound of his voice. She could feel her pulse begin to race remembering the running. All the twists and turns. _The street had seemed endless. And he was always just out of reach. She kept running, sure she could catch up, her fingers almost brushing against the ends of his trench coat as it flew behind him._

She tried to shake loose the fog of the dream and bring herself to the present. There was a sudden bang as metal hit wood. And a huge blast of petrichor filled the air.

Of course, the open window! They had been hit by an unseasonable heatwave. The last few days had been building with tension and the weather must have finally broken during the night. She padded over to adjust the sash so that the wind didn’t rattle the glass any further.

She stood for a moment at the open window and breathed deeply. The warm earth smell filled her senses and helped ground her. The night seemed so dark. She could barely make out the trees of the neighbouring orchard. How odd. The rain should have cleared out the clouds. And why weren’t there any stars?

_Focus._ She needed to focus. She was in England, staying with her parents. Dot was here. But there was something about Jack. Where was Jack? A sudden shiver run across her arm and she felt a wave of dizziness. Something wasn’t right, but why couldn’t she pinpoint what it was? Jack. She needed to find Jack. Jack would help her solve the puzzle.

She felt the room tilt a little but she braced herself against the glass. The coolness of the glass made the hair on her arm stand up, but its solidness felt right. It was so eerily dark. Where were the stars?

“Miss Fisher?!”

A voice. _That_ voice. She needed to get to that voice. Where was it coming from? If she could just focus.

“The Doctor was clear, you shouldn’t be up and about. Maybe I should get someone.” 

She turned away from the window and could just make out a silhouetted figure in the doorway. The shape, she knew that shape. Even without his hat. _Jack._ Was it really him? Was he really here? She shook her head, attempting to clear her vision. She had eyes like a fox. Why couldn’t she focus. She needed to go towards the voice. She willed herself forward, tentative at first.

“Is that really you, Jack? Are you here? But how? When?

He still wasn’t any sharper than before. She felt she was looking through a mist.

“I’m here. How could I be anywhere else? I should call for the Baroness, or Mrs Collins, perhaps? So much to tell you, Phryne.”

Jack was there, for her. She began to run. She thought of her dream and became determined to not let him vanish this time. She decided to do now what she hadn’t done then and she leapt towards the voice.

“Phryne?!”

She made contact. He was solid, he was there, he was Jack. He had caught her and held her in place, his hands at her ribs.

“Jack, you are here, it’s really you! How? Why? And why can’t I see you properly? I feel like I’m looking at you through a haze.”

“Phryne! That was amazing, you’re amazing. Foolish, headstrong, and stubborn as always, but amazing nonetheless. I should probably set you down and tell you every -”

Before he could answer properly, she leaned down and found his lips, silencing him with a kiss. She adjusted her arms to rest on his solid shoulders and put everything she had into the kiss, months of anticipation, frustration, and absence bubbling up to the surface, demanding to be satisfied.

They finally parted long enough to regain their breaths. Jack slowly set her down on her feet again. Her feet landed lightly on his own before she settled them on the cool wood floor. His scent, like the petrichor from earlier, grounded her. Only now it was sandalwood and bay rum. She trailed her hands down his torso, letting her head follow her fingers before she looked up into his face with dawning awareness.

“Jack Robinson not only are you here, in England, in my room kissing me in the middle of the night, smelling absolutely divine I might add, but you are only half dressed whilst doing it.”

“I was getting ready for bed when I heard the noises coming from your room. Phryne, you’ve been out for several days. We’ve all been worried. You were chasing down a suspect when his accomplice ambushed you in a cobblestone alleyway. You hit your head. From what I have heard you kept going as if things were fine for a couple of days before it became clear that you have a concussion.

And Miss Fisher, for the record, you kissed me.”

Her vision was still a bit blurred but as they were only inches apart she had seen plenty. And she could just make out the bit of a flush that was inching across his cheeks. But to her delight he didn’t release her from their embrace.

He cleared his throat. A nervous tick both endearing and infuriating because she knew what would come next, his infernal pragmatism.

“Phryne, of all the reunions I imagined on my way to England, I never could have pictured this one. Dramatic head injuries are usually more my speed than yours.”

She smiled despite herself.

“But I am here, Phryne, and I will be here tomorrow when the doctor comes back to examine you. And the tomorrow after that. However many tomorrows it takes. And once you are given a clean bill of health we can continue this reunion properly.”

“Oh, I hope not too properly, Jack.” Her head may be a bit foggy and out of sorts, but the rest of her body was feeling just fine. And Jack’s warmth was particularly inviting. The tenor of his voice as he responded warmed her to her core.

“No, not too properly. I had a lot of time to read on the ship on the way here. A rather intriguing book about the Far East.”

The smile on the edge of his lips she saw with amazing clarity.

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this amazing sketch by Kid_n_the_hall 


End file.
